


Dirty

by b_ann



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannon Divergence, Car Sex, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_ann/pseuds/b_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean loves his car, and does what he needs to to keep her clean.  But after a hunt with Cas, Baby inevitably ends up dirty all over again.  So dirty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty

It wasn’t the first time Dean Winchester was frustrated that his angel was, well, no longer an angel. There was that time when Cas’ super strength would have been more than welcome when that werewolf in Oregon just wouldn’t go down. Or his healing abilities when Sam broke his arm slipping on the ice when he swung the iron poker straight through the ghoul in Minnesota. Or his transportation mojo, even though it did a number on Dean’s digestive system, when there was just no way for them to get from Georgia to Nevada in a day … well, there was an airplane, but that shit just wasn’t going to happen.

But right now it was that crazy way he could just zap himself or anyone near him squeaky clean. But he wasn’t an angel, and he didn’t have his mojo. So the three of them, Sam, Dean and Castiel were forced to get in the Impala covered in mud.

“It could have been worse,” Sam had said as he tried to spread out the only clean article of clothing, Sam’s hoodie he had left behind, to cover as much of the passenger’s seat as possible. “We could have been one field over and be covered in mud and cow shit.” Ok, he had a point.

The bunker was only forty-five minutes away, so there really was no point in stopping at a hotel to get cleaned up. The damage had already been done.

Cas had lamented that he hadn’t been wearing his trench coat at the time, because Dean had insisted if they were going to look like they were hiking, he needed to ditch the holy accountant look. After that, nothing else was said. They were silent the entire way, no music, no conversing, just Dean sulking.

Once they got back to the bunker, Cas had offered to help Dean clean Baby’s interior, but after seeing the horrible smear of mud across the entire back seat, on the floor, the door, the back window … seriously?! How difficult was it to just not touch anything?! … he very calmly told him, “Thanks, but no. Why don’t you just go get cleaned up yourself.”

Dean stayed up almost the entire night cleaning the seats, windows, floors and doors of mud and then just giving her the detail clean she hadn’t had in ages, Armor All and everything. Then the next morning, or rather afternoon by the time he was actually awake, he pulled her outside and gave her exterior a good bath as well.

Cleaned, waxed and polished, she simply sparkled. Dead sexy if you asked Dean. 

So when Dean and Cas climbed up the muddy bank after a straightforward salt and burn three days later … Sam had somehow missed out on the climb from the creek, tucked away in the town library researching, Cas froze, his hand almost to the car’s passenger side door.

“No!”

“I’m sorry?” Cas said turning to him.

“No, not gonna happen.” Dean rounded the car to the trunk and popped it, using the shotgun to hold it open. “Strip,” he said, already unbuttoning his own mud soaked shirt.

Cas obeyed with no comment, joining him at the back of the Impala.

“It took me hours to get her clean again after the last mess.” Dean propped his right foot on the bumper, which would be easy enough to clean later, and untied his boot, noting that Cas followed in suit. He peeled off his sock and wrung it out before throwing it into the trunk after their shirts. He switched feet, removing his other shoe and sock. He contemplated just putting his boots on after he took his jeans off, but the pine needles were already sticking to his clammy feet. He was just going to have to go barefoot.

He looked up and Castiel was standing next to him wearing nothing but his white boxers, that were perhaps a little damp, but not muddy at all. He was using his undershirt to clean his hands and dry the rest of his body. Which was covered in gooseflesh. Dean crossed his arms around his own chest, ‘cause damn it was a titty bit nipply. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at Cas’ chest. As if the goosebumps weren’t confirmation enough that, yep, he was still very much human, and was apparently cold.

He couldn’t actually remember if he had ever seen him in this state of undress before. Well, there was that one time when the Reaper had almost killed him, ok, she did kill him, but that was beside the point. It had a different effect when Cas didn’t have an angel blade skewering him.

A much different effect.

He shook his gaze free and refused to let a shiver cut through his body, which was totally just from the chill.

“Come on, man,” Dean lifted the trunk just a fraction and removed the propped up gun and threw it on top of the wet and muddy clothing. Cas threw his shirt in and Dean let the trunk fall. “Let’s get the heat going.”

Dean leaned into the car, his pine needle covered feet still outside, and started the engine, cranking the heat. “Cas! Dude! Your feet,” and he made an exacerbated movement dusting off his own feet. Cas, who was currently frozen in the passenger’s seat, his feet about four inches off the floor, swung them back out the door and leaned over to remove any dirt and debris. At that angle, Cas’ boxers were riding just low enough Dean could see about a half an inch of his butt crack.

“Say no to crack, dude,” is what he had intended to say but when his mouth opened nothing actually came out. His eyes rose from the waistband of his boxers up his back where there were, not scars exactly because his skin was flawless, but a break in the muscles on both sides of his spine in the trapezius muscles. He took a moment trying to remember if he had ever seen whatever that was on anyone else, using his brother’s back as the most recent he'd seen. No, he didn’t think so.

“Cas?”

“Yes?” he said and after doing one last check on his feet he swung his legs back in the car. He shut the door and looked at Dean, his eyes bright and blue.

Dean put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and ignored the fact that his skin was so very, very warm. He pushed just a touch and Cas sat forward a little, turning to the side so Dean could look at his back once more. Cas twisted his neck, trying to figure out what Dean was looking at. His face looked so worried.

“Cas, is that …?” he drug his hand over his shoulder and down his back to one of the spots. There was an indent in the muscle, almost circular, just larger than his fist. “Did you …? Are these where your wings were?” Cas moved, pushing his right elbow with his left hand to feel the spot Dean was talking about. Their fingers touched briefly before Dean allowed the other man to run his fingers across his own back.

“My wings were never really attached to this vessel physically, they were … ethereal.” His hand dropped and he clasped his fingers together in his lap. “But yes, I believe what you are seeing is from my wings.” He took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped. “Or rather was.”

Dean lifted his hand again, and without thinking, drug just the tips of his fingers along the outside of the space.

“Sometimes,” Cas started but his throat caught. He cleared it and started again. “Sometimes I can feel them.” He rolled his shoulders and Dean could feel the muscles and tendons ripple underneath his touch. “It’s strange. Like they’re still there.”

Phantom limb. But Dean didn’t comment. Instead, he spread his fingers and placed his palm over the spot. 

A weird tingling sensation started in Dean's chest and flowed outward to his hand right to the spot he was touching Cas. A sharp intake of air shot through Castiel’s teeth. Dean started and tore his hand away. Cas’ eyes were closed and his eyebrows were knit together.

“What was that?!"

His head tilted to the side, the way it always did when Cas was trying to work something out. “It felt like Grace. Like my Grace." 

“It felt like electricity," Dean said looking first at this hand and then at Cas' back. "Like a static shock only ... more."

"It was my Grace, in you." Cas opened his eyes and Dean didn’t know what to do with the fact that the blue of his eyes was almost completely eclipsed by the black of his pupils. His lips parted a touch and he released a breath slowly. "When I pulled you from hell, and put you back together, I used my Grace as the bond, like a glue."

"We've touched each other loads of times, why was that the first time that happened?" Dean asked confused

"I think it's because you've touched my vessel in the past. I believe it would have been even more pronounced had you ever actually touched my wings."

Dean cleared his throat and sat up, turning so he was no longer facing his best friend's body. "I'm sorry," he said, ignoring the dig of the pedals on his bare feet but he didn't put Baby into gear, he didn't want to start moving just yet. He just sat there. "About the wings. I'm sorry you're human."

"Dean," and he sounded like himself again. "It's not your fault. Not everything is your fault." He took a moment to buckle his safety belt before turning to look at Dean again. "Besides, there are things I quite enjoy about being human."

"Like what?" He was surprised by how desperately he wanted to know how being human could be a good thing, especially when Cas had once been an angel of the lord.

"Heat," he said with a funny pull at his lips. Not quite a smile. He placed his hands over the vents on the dash. "Before, I could recognize the differences in temperatures, but now," he looked up his arm at the goosebumps that rose across his skin once more. "Now my body reacts to those changes. And that is what makes you human. Not that the world around you has changed, but your place in it. How it affects you, how it changes you."

"And are you changed now that you're human?" Dean asked turning to face him once more.

There was a long moment of silence. So long that Dean wasn't sure he was actually going to respond. "I was naive," Cas finally spoke. "Everything was black and white. I followed orders. Never questioned anything." Dean glanced over across the front seat and Cas was very pointedly looking at his hands in his lap. "There weren't distractions."

"And being human has caused you to be distracted."

"I think some would argue that I was distracted long before I became human."

"And now?"

"Right now?" Cas turned his entire body, well, as far as his seatbelt would allow him, the fabric digging into his hips just above his ... boxers. Dean was suddenly having a very difficult time keeping his eyes trained on Cas'. "I'm very distracted," and his voice had dropped to a dangerous growl.

Dean had to force himself to swallow.

“You distract me.”

“Cas!” he spat exacerbated, running his hands over his face that felt way too hot. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

"Why?" Cas looked utterly confused. "Because it's true. You distract me. And now that I'm human, my body doesn't allow me to ... Not be distracted."

"We're gonna skip right over where you explain that." But Dean couldn't continue because the deepest flush he had ever seen started at Cas' chest and crawled up his neck and over his face. As if on cue, both of their eyes dropped to Cas' hands in his lap trying desperately to cover his ... Holy shit! Was that an erection?! The still damp, thin white boxers were doing nothing to give him even the barest hint of modesty.

The image went straight to his groin and he was glad his boxer briefs were dark. Warning alarms were sounding all over in the back of his head. This was Cas. His best friend. His best male friend. His guardian angel.

Former angel, his subconscious supplied unhelpfully.

Ok, so former angel. But that was still some kind of blasphemy, right? Wanting to reach over and determine for himself just how distracted his almost naked formal angel actually was.

"Will you touch my back again. In that spot, where my wings used to be?" And Cas turned around and just waited. Waited for Dean to do something. Dean knew that if he had been the one to ask Cas something like that, the other man wouldn't have even hesitated. That's just the way he was. Willing to do anything for Dean.

When Dean moved his hand it was shaking. He touched Castiel's skin, just the fingertips at first. Barely tracing the spot again. Then he spread his entire hand over the spot on his right. Dean and Cas gasped again, the same as before, like something electrified was trying to escape from inside Dean in to Cas. Except, this time it had a completely different effect on Dean. He was instantly turned on, different kinds of sparks lighting up in his belly.

Without thinking, Dean leaned forward and put his mouth on the other spot between his outstretched fingers, his tongue reaching out to taste before his lips closed over the skin. That same feeling ran from his chest and to his tongue, feeling almost like touching a battery to it, only in reverse.

Cas actually cried out and everything changed, like the moment was so tense that all it took was his sound to break it. Dean slid across the bench seat, right up against Cas' side, his free arm wrapping around the angel’s waist. ‘Former’ be damned, Cas was still his angel.

Dean tried twice to pull Cas so all of the angel’s back was available to him before he realized his seat belt was on. As soon as Cas was unbuckled, he tried to turn and face Dean, which was fervently denied. Dean’s mouth moved across the planes of Cas’ back to the other spot left by his wings. The groan from the angel was so dirty, Dean couldn't help but uselessly thrust his hips onto nothing. The Grace within Dean sparked again, recognizing the contact of its owner.

Dean growled and brought his legs up to the seat, to kneel behind his angel. Dean maneuvered him so he was in front Dean on all fours, knees on the seat, hands on the door. Dean thrust his hips again and it met the meat of Cas' ass. The cry came from his lips this time. They were still separated by two sets of underwear and it was a crime, he was sure.

Cas arched his back and Dean saw the deep purple mark he had apparently sucked into one side of Cas' back. His marks were unbalanced, so he'd have to fix that. He wrapped himself over Cas' body and covered the first spot with his mouth again. This had to be getting Cas close, Dean realized as the sounds beneath him became more frenzied.

With that thought he snuck his hand between Cas and the back of the seat, to his hip and then to palm his wholly (holy?) impressive erection. Cas jerked forward then back like he couldn't figure out what he wanted more, Dean's mouth on his back or his hand on his cock. Dean took pity on the man and pulled the waistband of his boxers down so he could get a solid grip on his flesh, already dripping with precome. The poor guy wasn't going to last long. Dean began to pump his fist.

There was a litany of "Dean, oh god, Dean, please," and a string of what Dean was sure was Enochian that just fell from his lips. He couldn't control himself any longer. Dean adjusted his position over the writhing former angel beneath him, and shoved his knee between the leather of the seat back and the outside of Cas' leg and thrust his hips, never once slowing the rhythm of his pumping fist on the man's cock.

The groan Dean let past his lips was obscene as he ground down on the flesh of Cas' ass again and again. The fabric of his now damp underwear was rough on his sensitive erection, but the pressure was glorious.

There was a sharp gasp and Cas stilled. Dean all out growled, increased his speed and bit down on that spot on Cas' back.

Cas roared a word that was definitely not English, but sounded very much like a curse and he was coming, shooting warm spurts through Dean's fingers and all over the leather seat beneath him.

Dean worked him through his orgasm, slowing his hand until he finally stopped, resting his hand on his lower stomach, his face pressed against his back. They stayed like that for a few moments, their breathing the only sound. Then finally Cas spoke, his voice still gravely and dangerous and low.

"Yes, distracting."

Dean actually laughed at that. Suddenly there was a jumble of limbs and Dean was knocked back on his haunches, and before he could say or do anything, he was up against the driver's door with Cas over top of him, straddling his thighs.

"Very distracting."

His hands were on him, barely pulling his underwear down enough for his erection that was right back at attention to pop free.

"Yes," was hissed between Dean's clenched teeth as Cas took him firmly in his warm hand. It was as if he had wanted this forever. Maybe he had. Dean gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the back of the seat with his other, digging into the leather. He wanted to thrust his hips up into Cas' hand but he couldn't, not with the owner of said hand straddling his thighs, his underwear still pulled down below his spent dick.

He was unpracticed, but it didn't matter. What Cas lacked in finesse, he made up for in enthusiasm. Pumping his fist like Dean had done for him, his thumb running across the head and into the slit.

"Open your eyes," Dean heard Cas whisper. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. But when he complied he was met with those blue eyes that he had come to love.

Love? No, like. He liked them a lot.

"Fuck!" He gasped when Cas twisted his wrist and he realized, love, love was the appropriate word. He loved those blue eyes.

"I want you looking at me when it happens."

And that was all it took, those words from Castiel, the angel of Thursday, for Dean to come all over Cas' hands with his name on his lips. Cas didn't even let him recover from the powerful orgasm, he was on top of him, his hand on the window bracing himself as he crushed Dean's mouth. Lips and teeth and spit, mumbling something into Dean's mouth.

Dean let go of steering wheel and wrapped his arms around Cas' back, gripping both of the spots on Cas' back at the same time. Cas pulled away, arching his back and gasped.

It took a moment but Cas' blue eyes finally found Dean's. Their breathing slowed as small little electric aftershocks flowed from Dean into Cas' flesh.

"Oh Dean, I'm sorry," Cas gasped as his eyes caught something out the window of the car above Dean's head. Dean quickly twisted to look outside but his gaze fell to the glass where a Cas sized handprint was left.

Dean actually laughed out loud when Cas looked down at his hand, still covered in a decent amount of Dean's jizz.

Cas twisted around to look at the seat behind him. "And I made a mess of your seat. Again."

Dean laughed again. The poor guy. "This is a different kind of mess."

"So you're not upset with me?" And perhaps Cas' face would have been pitiful if he wasn't still leaning over Dean with both of their dicks hanging out over the tops of their underwear.

"This kind of dirty was worth it."

They both sat up, finally tucking themselves away. Dean grabbed some napkins from the glove box and handed them to Cas so he could clean off the seat before he sat down, buckling his safety belt once more. Dean decided to leave the handprint. It would just smear if he wiped it and he couldn't help the smile every time it caught his eye on the way back to the hotel.

Once they parked Dean grabbed Cas' wrist stopping him from getting out of the car.

"When we get back to the bunker, you're helping me clean her." He paused letting a smirk pull at his mouth. "And then you're going to give me a reason to clean the outside."

Dean couldn't help but smile at the flush that claimed Cas' checks again. Yeah, this was an acceptable kind of dirty.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame kelly42fox for everything. It really wasn't that long ago she sent me a Destiel fic and all I could think was, "well, I don't ship it, but ok ..." And now I'm writing it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little thought that came to me while cleaning my own car.
> 
> Let me know what you think and visit us on tumblr!  
> <http://kelly42fox.tumblr.com>  
> <http://brittlipy.tumblr.com>


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